#cybie yells

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Epic venting style

maybe I should be friends with people who don’t constantly make me question if they have an extremely active group chat that was formed to complain about me

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quarterly Isaac logs in and vent posts incoming

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this week has been profoundly sad

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having to sit across from someone in class who you know despises your existence is beyond exhausting

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???????

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yeah

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like if u read

ok google, how do i convince myself that everyone who is important to me actually enjoys being in my company and doesnt hate me

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a a a a a a a a a a a a a a vent

im so fucking insecure i really need constant reassurance bc of my anxiety and i have no idea how to ask fr it without begging for attention (sometimes when I got upset one of my exes FREQUENTLY accused me of fishing for compliments 😳😳😳😳 and now I don’t know what to do bc oh gosh I don’t wanna b like that) ......... so instead I vaguepost about it on tumblr

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the night tiptoes quiet twinkling (in her silver stockings)

and lion-tooth tears my soul down its seam

bright metal beacon for your emotional lighting

sparks fly between us (the shocks numb my fingers)

striving to be tried and true (we end up blue and bruised)

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supercooled

sometimes you stretch your arm forward (sometimes you let it fall slightly helplessly poetically choreographed 

you're a figure skater on thin ice) 

reaching for a stranger's heart-and-soul warmth

it's only when you press your face up against the glass of your own isolation and watch your breath fog and spin out into crystals you get the urge 

break something!

be noticed!

but when are you ever so loud?

your voice fizzles like an out-of-date sparkler against his fireworks or her sonic boom so you freeze

your soundwaves shatter in the subzero air

you've never been one for words - your emotions scatter in colours crescendoes of paint-splatters across crumpled pages

(you tuck them under your pillow when you cry yourself to sleep)

these days you find yourself wishing for a voice one single chord you can float above in song the brightness of your chorus will spill from your lungs even if only so they can hear it

you wonder what it would be like to live perfectly alone one square window casting early-light over you, one mirror to move your lips in front of without making noise (goldfish in a tank called paradise)

two drawers to squeeze yourself into - the silence is your vacuum you're not even sure what colour anything's supposed to feel anymore 

(your hands feel cold)

how long until you kill the last of your humanity? the air-bubbles that slip out of your slack-jawed mouth stop meaning anything 

an ode to being just you inside your head

(would your pictures slip away too? the thought makes your hand shake and the  pencil you're always holding clatters to the floor - loud, impassioned, but the opposite of triumph

you slump in your seat)

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izzy struggle tweets

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obsidere - to haunt

derivative - obsession (derivative - you)

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i couldn’t sleep last night for

writing poems about you in my head

— frowning. i can’t remember them.

(were they ever there, alive,

sticking out their tongues like babies,

spitting-up their blood-red letters?)

they have been snatched by the sandman and exalted to the sunrise.

you, though, it’s

— drowning. i remain blind,

lost in a new maze of thoughts of you

the twisting hedge calibrated to my circadian rhythm.

(my heart’s compass needle spins inwards: our bermudalove triangle)

i spin on uncertain feet.

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im sorry 

for all the hell i put you through

and all the homebrewed hell i pushed towards you 

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it’s worst just before midnight - late enough to know you won’t sleep but too early not to care